


Love Hangover

by roane



Series: Out: A Play in Three Acts (Soundtrack Provided by Miss Diana Ross) [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Consensual Violence, First Time, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 04:25:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1591631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roane/pseuds/roane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What was happening inside the warehouse when the other Avengers came to investigate. Later known to certain people as "that time Captain America and the Winter Soldier knocked down a building having sex." (Part two of a three-part series.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Hangover

Bucky-- _no, the Winter Soldier_ \--has Steve by the neck and slams him hard against the support beam, hard enough to make it creak. Steve can feel it give a little at his back. Many more hits like that, and the entire warehouse is going to come down on them.

“I don’t remember you,” the man snarls, then leans in and presses his mouth to Steve’s, less like a kiss and more like a punch, except Steve’s never had a punch feel so good. Even the slight ache where the post hit his spine, the small cut on his forehead from their first greeting, it all combines with the feel of the hard mouth against his and he wants to make a startlingly obscene noise.

The first time this happened, Steve found him by accident. He’d been looking of course, and stumbled on the man he can’t help but think of as Bucky not far from the remains of the Triskelion. He expected a hell of a fight, and he got one, right up until the moment that he was pinned to the ground beneath one hundred and eighty-five pounds of pissed off man and machine with a knife at his throat, and then Bucky just… stopped. He looked down at Steve, then kissed him. They fought between kisses until Bucky managed to get him good and pinned, arms and legs. They wound up kissing and biting, rutting against each other until they both came in their pants. Then Bucky was gone, and Steve was left in a confusing--not to mention uncomfortable--situation.

After that, Steve looked for reasons to put himself in vulnerable positions. He walked alone in dark places, daring the Winter Soldier to find him. Sam would have knocked him upside the head if he’d known, wanting to know why Steve had a death wish. It wasn’t that.

It wouldn’t have been so confusing if he and Bucky had actually, well, _done_ anything, before. Bucky always seemed girl-crazy and Steve--if he caught himself having idle fantasies about the men who worked on the dock, or sometimes about Gary Cooper, he kept his thoughts to himself. He didn’t have thoughts about Bucky like that… not really. Dreams didn’t count, did they?

But something happened since then, and Steve wanted to--no, he _needed_ to--find out what. It’s as if, instead of trying to kill Steve, Bucky’s determined to drive him mad.

The second time they met, the fighting was more intense, the two of them tossing each other around a park until they wind up tumbled together in the bushes, kissing and cursing. This time, they managed to get each other’s pants open. Steve didn’t stop to think about the trust involved in letting someone who just had his hand around your throat wrap it around your johnson; he’s too busy trying to keep from groaning too loudly.  (Although he’s not entirely insane--if Bucky had reached for him with his _left_ hand, Steve would’ve stopped him.)

This time, Bucky didn’t just vanish afterwards. He collapsed for a moment against Steve’s chest, while they fumbled clothing back into place. For that moment, Steve thought maybe, just maybe, things might be all right. Then Bucky looked up at him, and the pain in his eyes made Steve hope that he wasn’t remembering after all.

“Stop looking for me,” Bucky hissed, then shoved himself away and ran.

After he moved to New York, Steve thought those random visits had come to an end, but that didn’t stop him from visiting his old haunts in Brooklyn. And it turned out he wasn’t the only one who moved out of DC, because here he is with his back against an iron girder and the man wearing Bucky’s face is kissing him like he wants to crawl inside Steve’s body. Again.

Except for the punching and destruction of property, it’s everything Steve could wish for. He takes a second to come up for air, putting his hands on Bucky’s shoulders, one warm, one cold. “Bucky, hey. We gotta talk about this--”

Bucky swings his arms up and around, breaking Steve’s hold and pinning his arms. Any more pressure and he could probably break them. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Well whatever I’m calling you, do think we should talk about why you--”

Bucky slams his forehead into Steve’s, then Steve is thrown backwards hard enough to put a dent in the girder. Instinct kicks in, despite his erection, and he fights back. Steve throws a punch and although he pulls it at the last second, Bucky goes flying backwards and slams into the wall. It rattles, and somewhere there’s a sound of breaking glass. Neither of them is wearing any protective clothing anymore--Bucky’s Winter Soldier armor is long gone, replaced by battered secondhand jeans and a windbreaker. And Steve, well, he’s not planning to wear the Stars and Stripes again any time soon. He’s even stopped carrying the shield.

When Steve catches up to him, Bucky is slumped against the cracked wall. His mouth is bloodied from Steve’s punch and he looks dazed. _Damn it._ Steve approaches cautiously and crouches beside him, his guard up.

“Buck. You okay?”

Bucky just glares at him, but doesn’t make a move to strike. He’s scruffier than Steve’s ever seen him, with his hair still overlong and in his face, and probably at least a week’s worth of beard.

“Why are we doing this?” When Bucky doesn’t reply, Steve inches closer, and reaches out to wipe the blood from the corner of Bucky’s mouth with his thumb.

“Why do you keep letting me?” It’s almost Bucky’s voice, the Bucky he remembers.

Steve shakes his head. “I…” He tries to say _I didn’t_ , but he’s an awful liar even when he’s only bending the truth, much less shattering it. Instead he gives Bucky the only truth he can think of right at that moment: he kisses him.

It’s different this time. There’s a faint coppery taste of blood, but Bucky’s mouth is softer against his despite the long stubble tickling his cheeks. Bucky’s hand--his right hand--creeps to the back of his head and doesn’t grab his hair or pull him away, he just… cups fingers around Steve’s skull, carefully.

“You remember me, don’t you,” Steve murmurs. Bucky tries to turn away, but Steve catches his chin. “Don’t you.”

“You’re all I want to remember. Not the--not the rest of it.”

The simple, quiet admission threatens to stop Steve’s breathing, a catch in his chest like when he was a kid. “Bucky--”

“Don’t.” Bucky pulls him back and kisses him, maybe to stop him from talking.

Their first two encounters were so fast and confusing, but this--well, they’re talking, for one thing, and Bucky’s stopped trying to hit him.

This is everything.

They wind up lying on the warehouse floor, and at first it’s just kissing: long and slow and half-breathless with discovery. Their legs twine together and then Bucky rolls Steve onto his back. It’s hard for Steve not to tense--he’s vulnerable. If Bucky wanted to, he could hurt Steve terribly like this.

Then again, that was always true.

Bucky kisses him again and it’s unlike anything Steve’s ever experienced. Natasha teased him about not kissing anyone since 1945, but he can’t remember any kiss, ever, that made him feel so satisfied and so hungry at the same time. He can feel his entire body straining upwards, wanting more. So when Bucky stops kissing him, he groans in frustration.

It’s worth it though, when Bucky grins at him. It’s like Steve’s vision doubles, and despite the hair and the beard and the years, he sees the grin of the boy who had yet to see anything more painful than an alley fight, and his heart constricts.

“Just wait,” he says, and starts sliding down Steve’s body. He pushes up Steve’s shirt and rubs his face against Steve’s skin, mouthing kisses that make him jump.

Steve hasn’t--it isn’t like he’s never done anything before. He went through the war with a group of hellraisers, and they wouldn’t have let him hear the end of it if he hadn’t at least shown some interest in a girl that was right in front of him. But it wasn’t like this. Bucky gets his pants open and doesn’t hesitate a second before closing his mouth around Steve’s prick, and Steve forgets everything he ever knew, up to and including his name, rank, and serial number.

All he can do is stare down helplessly and watch. Bucky’s eyes are closed, his hands resting on Steve’s hips as he kneels over him. Had he ever noticed how perfect Bucky’s mouth was before this? He must have, but only thinking in terms of kisses. For a mad, half-conscious moment he wonders what it would look like if Bucky were clean-shaven, soft skin and softer lips, and has to close his eyes or risk losing control entirely too soon.

With his eyes closed, the sensation and sound are even more overwhelming: the soft, wet pull of Bucky’s mouth, the matched harshness of their breathing. Steve reaches blindly down and closes his fingers over Bucky’s hand--belatedly he realizes, it’s Bucky’s left hand. Still, Bucky turns it over and carefully squeezes back, flesh and metal fingers intertwining.

He knows at some point he’s cried out, but when he comes, he’s stunned into silence. He collapses back against the concrete, sheened with sweat and muscles limp. When Bucky crawls back up to kiss him, there’s nothing he can do but lie there.

Bucky doesn’t do anything more threatening than than press his arms back to the concrete, and that gently. “You got so big,” he says.

“Didn’t mean to.” He can feel the awkward, lopsided grin on his face.

“No, I--I like it.” He’s talking. He’s actually talking to Steve and Steve should just shut up and enjoy this, but he can’t help it.

“Why did you fight me?”

Bucky’s the one who tenses now, and Steve can feel him start to withdraw. “I thought--I wanted--” His eyes are lost. Steve stays quiet. Either he’ll manage to get the words out, or he won’t, pushing won’t make a difference. Bucky looks away, then sits up next to Steve. “If I didn’t remember you--if you thought that--I thought you’d give up. But after that first time, I couldn’t stay away from you.”

Steve struggles to sit up, trying to refasten his jeans and trying harder to ignore the stone in his belly. “You wanted me to give up?”

“Not--wanted.” Bucky sitting with his head hanging down and his knees up, it’s so much like when they were kids that Steve can forget that it’s been seventy years.

“Come on, Buck, this is me. Talk to me.”

“You don’t need me.” When Steve opens his mouth to speak, Bucky shakes his head. “I don’t mean ‘cause you’re Captain America. I mean--I’m a liability.”

“Shut up, okay? You’re not a liability. A liability would still be trying to kill me, not--well, you’re just not.” Bucky’s stony-faced silence is the only answer he gets. Steve rolls to his knees in front of him and reaches out, making Bucky look him in the eyes again. “I sorta know what it’s like to wake up and think that everything you ever had was gone. I wouldn’t wish it on anybody.”

“But what I did--”

“Wasn’t you.” Steve shakes his head. “You don’t have to come back with me, and if you want to take off and go it alone, you can, but--like somebody once told me, you don’t have to.”

Bucky tilts his head up and squints at him through a fall of hair. “What asshole told you that?” He’s trying to repress a grin, badly.

Steve stands up, and reaches out with both hands to pull Bucky up as well. “Come on. At least come home with me and eat a decent meal. You can decide to go later, if you want.”

Rising to his feet, Bucky deliberately collides with him, and they end up kissing again for a long, quiet moment. Steve doesn’t think he’s going to leave after all.

Whatever they didn’t do before, it seems that they do now.


End file.
